The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1887-02-02
IN THE MIDDLE WEST.
A Story of Life in the Great
Mississippi Valley
BY ALVA MILTON KERR.
[CorYR1GHT, 1886, BY THE A. N. KELLOGG
NEWSPAPER COMPANY.
CHAPTER XXIII.-CoNTINUED.


as he sat opposite Celeste and Mrs.
Brayton in their comfortable carriage,
with the urbane colored coachman
handling the reins with much dignity up
on the front seat, and they rolled away
along the winding river roads, about
the green hills, ont into the glorious
country, or perhaps alighted at Spring
Grove Cemetery, that four hundred
acres of green velvet sparkling with
white spires of marble and cool with
royal oaks, Or again got down in Eden
Park and wandered about the lakes
and among the trees, he felt indeed
that life was not a heavy thing. Then
there were evenings when Celeste
sang, and his sensitive spirit trembIed
with pleasure upon her crystal voice;
and twice he helped to row party up
the flushed river when the sun was go
ing down, and they floated back to
the city through the holy moonlight,
singing as they went. Then he was
content to be silent, letting his oars fol-
low through the pearl-dented bubbling
waters, while he listened to her voice,
as it went through the others out over
the glinting reach, to him not unlike a
clear star-fame, or some sounding
and ineffable perfume.
Then there were nights at the play;
and one when great concert came
off, and he was wel-nigh lifted away
from earth as the smooth thunder of
two hundred perfect voices rolled up
through the mighty, mellow hollow of
the building, and again his heart was
filed when a figure in white satin, a
glimmering slip of womanhood, came
into the flare of light, and sang such a
carol of gladness as he thought he had
never heard before. 1t was Celeste;
and when she had finished and there
burst out tempest of clapping hands
and flying flowers, and the white fig
ure limped away out of the wreathing
light, his eyes were filled with tears,
and he saw only the little girl with
cups OF water in her hands falling
among the dying on a field of blood,
aud felt again the wounding ball that
forever swerved her from a public life
of song. But when few moments later
all was over, and he caught and for
an instant held her trembling
hands and flashed his pride and
admiration into her uptrrned, radiant
face, great gladness swept over him,
Il speeches. gratitude, unquestioned,
unanalyzed, that she was physically
imperfect, else they might have
never met; she might have never
been-ah, whatp What was thisp this
that had blossomed through all his
bloodp this that had floated there for
years, and at last had conferred like
star-mist i'll his brain, making earth and
life seem beautiful Yet even now ii
was rather a gladness felt than a prin-
ciple perceived; q pure and gentle &C.
stacy, through which his thoughts, as
they rode homeward, ran glowingly,
and in which he led her from the car
riage to her door with something like
religious reverence, mingled with an
unspeakable longing to kiss her lifted
face as she leaned upon his arm weary
in body but with glowing eyes.
That night when he laid down to
sleep in the beautiful chamber, and his
eyes were closed and soft darkness be-
gan to fold him in, his whole being
seemed sweet, and he saw ali recent
things distinctly for time as in a
mighty mirror, with those old hard
days far back in the glass, filming. and
pickering, and passing into dream.
When the day began to break
again, to him, drifting out from the
dark sea of sleep, the first glim-
merings of the shore of conscious
ness seemed filled with music,
and he awoke to hear Celeste caroling
in the little conservatory below All,
what silver! She wishes to waken me,
he thought, and sprang up and looked
out and saw the sun, red as a throb-
bing heart, flaming up through the
tree tops far to the east, with all the
intervening sweep of river, hills and
smoking housetops, sown with little
fires.
at has rained glow-worms!' he said
to himself with smile, noting that a
little shower had fallen in the night,
against whose pendant drops the tiny
arrows from the rising sun struck and
smote out million sparks.
1t was memorable day to John Ear
ling. When he came down upon one
of the vine-wound verandas Celeste
was watering the flowers that ran in
something like rainbows about the
curving paths. The air was very
sweet and lucent, and unperceived he
stood leaning against one of the tluted
porch-posts a moment watching her as
she bent above the flowers. She was
humning song to herself, so low and
soft it blent with and seemed almost a
part of the murmurous noise of bees
plying since dawn their sugary traffic
there Like the bees, too, she was pry-
ing into the flowers; parting the petals
with delicate touch as she gazed into
them with eyes that made the fairest
one in all the beds seem tame.
John Earrings eyes, too, grew lu-
minous, and a smile came into his face
as he saw her give little start when
she stirred q half-open bloom and bee
behoured with pollen came scramb-
ling out, and, starting. to fly away, fell
in the grass, dragged down with hon
ey and its thigh-borne gold. Then
his smile grew very tender, indeed,
when she stopped down. and, running
her fingers slowly into the grass I'M
der the struggling bee, lifted her hand
up with the little workman buzzing in
the pink hollow of her outspread palm
and held it out before her. Hurry!
you little midget she laughed, thur
cy! you ticklem But the bee soberly
nntangled his yellow legs and gave his
floury head couple of rubbing
mills that seemed likely to rernrrn &